No Nightmares Tonight
"So then this guy turns around and tells me that his wife isn't missing, he doesn't even have a wife. Someone's kidnapped his dog and he thought we would come quicker if we thought it was his wife. Man, I just wanted to swing for the guy, thank God Brass was there or I'm not sure what I would have done." Warrick vented leaning back against his locker.
Nick smiled while he did his laces up but looked distracted.
"And then I looked up and a spaceship landed and this guy just got and returned to his home planet." Warrick continued frowning suspiciously.
"Yeah?" Nick replied clearly not listening to a word Warrick was saying.
Warrick sat down on the bench beside Nick. "What's bugging you, Nick?"
"What? Nothing."
"Come on, you've been weird all day. What's going on?"
"It's just this case I'm on." Nick said shrugging.
"Child abuse, right?"
"Yeah, sexual abuse of a little boy."
"These cases really get to you, don't they?"
"They're tough on everybody."
"They seem to be especially hard on you."
Nick shrugged again. "Everyone has cases that get to them." He replied quietly.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
Nick didn't answer.
"What ever happened that makes you react like this isn't going to go away just by not talking about it, it'll just get worse."
"What makes you so sure that anything happened." Nick replied slightly defensively.
"I'm right, aren't I?" Warrick was secretly hoping that Nick would just laugh it off, that he was wrong.
"Yeah." Nick whispered so softly that Warrick wasn't actually sure that he had heard it. Warrick stayed quiet for a minute or two to allow Nick to collect his thoughts, give him time to think about what he wanted to say.
"My parents were going out one night for dinner and my brothers and sisters were all busy so they got a baby sitter. She looked really nice at first." Nick paused for a second and swallowed loudly.
"But after my mom and dad had gone she suggested playing a game. She, er, took me up to my room and she made me get undressed. Then, then she-" He stopped unable to say the words.
"How old were you?" Warrick asked.
"Nine." Nick lent forwards and hid his face in his hands so that Warrick wouldn't see him cry. "Afterwards, I just hid in my room, terrified that she would come and do it again. I hid and waited for my mom to come home."
"Did you ever tell anyone?"
"Not for a long time. I told Catherine a few years ago after I struggled with a case but other than her I never told anyone. Could never find the words."
"I'm sorry, man."
"You shouldn't be. It was my fault."
"Nicky, no. How on Earth was it your fault?"
"I should have stopped her. Maybe if I'd fought, maybe she wouldn't have. And I should have told my mom. She could have done the same to so many other kids, if I'd told then she wouldn't have had the chance."
"How many times have you heard someone blame themselves after they've been assaulted?"
Nick shrugged.
"How many time have you told them that it wasn't their fault?"
Nick shrugged again.
"Nick, what she did to you was her fault. Hers alone. You can't blame yourself for what she chose to do to you."
"It was all a long time ago, in the past. I'm over it."
"Are you sure about that?"
"Yeah." He stood up. "Sorry, I shouldn't have said anything, it was stupid, I'm stupid. You see enough crime without me telling you about that. Forget about it. I shouldn't have said anything. Sorry." Nick left the locker room in such a rush that Warrick had to run down the corridor to keep up with him.
"Nick, wait up." He caught up with him and pushed him into a empty layout room. Neither bothered to turn the lights on.
"I'm glad you told me."
Nick looked down. He wished that he hadn't said anything. He didn't want to see the pity in his best friends eyes.
"What she did to you was wrong. I can't even begin to imagine what you've been through, all these years, never telling anyone, just keeping it bottled up inside."
Nick looked up and risked meeting Warrick's eyes. He was surprised that he saw no pity in there, only care and compassion.
"It plays on your mind, you know, always lurking, like some disease. It waits for you to be happy and then trips you up. It effects everything I do. I can never get rid of it. It ruins every good memory I have. Every relationship I get into. When I'm with a girl, I can't get the image of her out of my head. And I have to end the relationship because I can't stand the feeling of self loathing that I get." He walked away slightly, needing the space, and sat down on the floor with his back up against the wall.
Warrick sat down beside him but left plenty of space, sensing that he needed it.
"Have you ever thought about talking to anyone? Professionally I mean."
"Hundreds of time, came close to it a few times but I don't think I could. I don't think I could get the words out. I'd just sit there in silence. When I try to tell someone about it, it's like my throat constricts, and I suddenly can't even think of the words that I should say. I just don't know how to start that conversation."
"If you did, I'd come with you. If it would help. Maybe it would help you find the words."
"I dunno. Maybe I should. I can't go like this. Every case with a kid that we have gets a little bit harder. The nightmares it triggers take a few more days to go away."
"I'll be there man, if you do."
"Thanks. It means a lot. It really does."
"No problem. How about we go and get some breakfast?" Warrick said, sensing the conversation was over and standing up.
Nick stood up as well. "I'm not really in the mood, maybe tomorrow."
"I'll consider it a date." Warrick replied smiling.
"Thanks. I'll see you tonight."
"See you, buddy."
Nick walked down the corridor and out of the lab feeling lighter. Maybe there would be no nightmares tonight.
I don't own CSI and I have literally just wrote this so I'm sorry for any mistakes.